The Widow Maker
by Adamantwrites
Summary: What will become of Adam and the young woman he made a widow? Caution-Mature subject matter and language. Non-graphic sexual content. Story is just for entertainment-not as serious literature. Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended on any settings or characters owned by others. All original characters and plot is the property of the author.
1. Chapter 1

The Widow Maker

Adam reached up and stroked her hair, pushing aside the dark strands that had fallen free from their confines. She was so lovely, so lush and full of life and her rounded body entranced him with its pink and white hues; she was like a rose that was waiting to be explored by the penetrating bee, soon to be overcome by the dizzying perfume of the bloom's attraction.

He had been looking forward to seeing her for days and the ride back from Abilene where he and Hoss had delivered the cattle seemed to take forever. There had been the dry, dusty ride there and the rain on the way home that had run off their hats, trailing down their necks and into their shirts but the wind was so cutting that none of them stayed dry under their ponchos. And then Hoss complained that the rain only made the dust and dirt cake on him when the sun came out and it became dry mud. But now Adam was home from the cattle drive and when she opened her door to him, Adam felt he was home and his urgent need for her overwhelmed him.

"Did you miss me?" he asked after they had "tussled" on the sheets. He looked up into her face, her gentle face that always softened when she saw him, a slight smile playing about her lips. He needed to hear that he was important to her.

"Every day and every night I missed you. I yearned for you? Did you miss me?"

"Oh, yes, I missed you. I couldn't get home to you fast enough." He traced her cheek and jaw with a forefinger.

"Get home to me? Do you consider me home?"

"Yes. You give me ease." Adam adored her and the fact that she allowed him to come to her, that she took him into her bed gave him a peace he had never known in his younger years and thought he would never find. But the past three years with her had been wonderful; he had a woman he loved and who loved him in return and gave him her body and because of that, his earlier desires to travel to far-off places, to sail the seas, to search for adventure, had faded into nothingness. She fulfilled all his needs and desires and he found rest in her as well as a new world to explore.

Adam wasn't a young lover anymore who lay with any woman whenever he had the itch—he had become more discriminating as he aged and she was so young, at least fifteen years younger than he and had only known one other man—her husband. But their hunger for each other was more deeply felt, more urgent and the expression of it more intense mainly due to what they gave to each other and what they shared with one another.

"Tomorrow's your birthday, isn't it?" she asked quietly, leaning over him as she propped herself on one elbow beside him, her finger tracing a circle around his nipples and then running down to and then around his navel. His body hair used to be jet black, she noted, but now there were gray hairs mingled in them. She had noticed that over the past few years, how he had changed and how he had come to love her more—and she, to love him. Adam meant all to her.

"Yes."

"How old will you be now? Forty?"

"Yes. I will officially be an old man with a misery in my back. Pretty soon, woman, you'll have to do the work. You'll have to climb on top of me all the time."

She giggled and leaned down to kiss him. Then she ran a fingertip over a scar on his shoulder. His body was covered in scars, some large, some small. "How did you get that one?'

"Oh, that. Jealous husband—shot me as I scampered out of his wife's bedroom window."

"Well then you should have been shot in the ass." Adam chuckled at her choice of word. "And this one?" She touched a light scar on his side.

"Oh, that's from a woman I left standing at the altar. Her daddy fired the shotgun that he had been holding on me."

"Liar."

He chuckled. "Yes, I guess I am. The only woman who's ever hurt me is you. But you haven't left a scar on my body—just my heart."

"Me? How have I hurt you?"

"You keep refusing me."

"I told you why long ago. You said then that you understood. After Sam was killed—well, I just thought that it was best that I stay unmarried. And I still do, especially since you're the one who killed him. People might think…well, you know what they would think."

"I don't care what they think." But Adam did care what people thought for her sake only; his own father had even questioned him when, after Adam had shot down her husband in a poker game, he spent more evenings away from the Ponderosa going to see the young, lovely widow.

The gunfight was fair—Clavell, who was drunk, drinking heavily along with his losses, had accused Adam of cheating and had called him out, tipping his chair over and standing back from the table where Adam still sat. Adam refused. He said that he wasn't going to get in a gunfight with a drunk. And then Clavell pulled his gun and fired above Adam's head. Clavell told Adam to stand up and draw or he would shoot Adam where he sat. And as the witnesses said, "He left Adam no choice; Cartwright had to shoot him."

But people discussed why Adam had to shoot him dead. And then Clavell's widow came up as the motivation. People seemed to remember how much Adam Cartwright would tip his hat to her and even give a small bow whenever he saw her and Asia Clavell would blush like a young bride and become flustered. Yes, they looked at each other with a yearning and it made everyone else in their presence uncomfortable. And then Adam's horse had been seen at odd hours tied outside Widow Clavell's small farm a short way out of Virginia City and the town gossips speculated that Clavell's wife was the true reason for the gunfight and why Adam killed him; those Cartwrights always acquired what they wanted—no matter how long it took or what they had to do to achieve it. And when the men saw Mrs. Clavell, they wondered if they would kill a man in order to bed her and many joked that they would, deciding that Adam Cartwright could very well have murdered Sam Clavell since he seemed to have seamlessly slid into the woman's sheets soon afterwards. And they wondered if Widow Clavell even noticed the change in men-but it wasn't quite a joke—underneath the humor, the men were deadly serious.

And Ben had heard the initial gossip and had also been informed by Sheriff Coffee that people were still, almost a year later, asking him why an inquest hadn't been called. Roy Coffee always said that there had been no need; he had enough witnesses and they all agreed it was self-defense and that was that. But people then talked about Roy Coffee being such good friends with the Cartwrights and that he would gladly turn his head and avoid seeing the obvious. So after he had heard talk again in town, Ben asked Adam, "Are you seeing Mrs. Clavell?" It was a cold night with brisk winds and Ben knew that the draw had to be powerful for Adam to saddle up his horse and ride out on night like this night.

"Why do you ask me that?"

"Because people are talking—she is young and quite beautiful. Are you seeing her?"

"Yes." Adam turned to face his father, daring him to say anything.

"You do what you want, Adam. I'm your father and so I care about your reputation—not the Cartwright reputation but yours—your own as a man. It seems anymore that you just sleep here and eat here and I know you have a life away from the Ponderosa and I accept that. Nevertheless, I would tell this to any man I considered my friend and, Adam, I consider you not just my son but my friend as well and I think you should know how I feel. I don't think it's a good idea. It's only been a year since you…since her husband was killed and if she's 'entertaining' you, letting you stay with her all night, well, it's not prudent. This is really a small town even with Virginia City having grown so much over the years. People still know other people's business and they gossip. And they've begun to gossip about you and her. It seems that your horse was seen tied out in front of her house until the early hours."

"You're right; it's not prudent. I'll have to leave my horse in her barn from now on." And Adam put on his hat and left and Ben never broached the subject again but he knew that Adam was in love. He just didn't understand the relationship between Adam and the young widow. But Ben did understand the allure of sex with a beautiful woman and it made him sigh with remembered passions of his own and memories of what it was like to hold a woman's lithe body and bury one's head between full, plumps breasts and then, oh, and then to grasp a woman's hips and to lose one's self in that feeling that was akin to religious ecstasy. Ben knew so well what that was like and in a small way, envied Adam. But after Adam returned from seeing the widow, he was always serene for a while, that is until his blood heated up again and there would come a tightness about his jaw and he became bitter and his family avoided him. That meant that he needed the woman. And Adam would leave and be gone the rest of the evening and night, returning at sunrise- until the next time came.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

And that night Adam had rushed to see the woman he loved. He was too impatient to wait for hot water for a bath so he had just grabbed a bar of soap and went to the small fishing lake and bathed there. He had told his father and Hop Sing not to wait dinner for him so as soon as he was dressed, Adam left for Mrs. Clavell's. And she had welcomed him into her arms and he carried her up the stairs to her room. The lovers undressed each other while his lips coursed over her body as he revealed her breasts, her belly and her rounded thighs with their secret buried between them, the secret that only he was allowed to explore and enjoy She locked her ankles around his waist as his hips rolled in matching movement to her body's desire for him.

And then, after both had reached their release and a sense of calm and quietude overcame them, they lay together, their arms around each other, and she asked him about his trip. Adam told her about the cattle drive—and how he had missed her.

"What did you miss the most?" she asked as they lay in the dropping darkness. The fading light emphasized the contrast between his swarthy skin and her alabaster perfection.

His laughter was deep in his throat. "It should be easy for you to know what I missed." He kissed her again. "And then I missed your voice, how you say my name and tell me that you love me and how you moan in the pleasure I give you."

"Hush," she said, placing her fingers over his lips to still them. "You make me sound like a wanton hussy!" But she smiled.

"The best kind of hussy," Adam said and then he pulled her down to him, gently melding his mouth with hers and he could feel her relax into his embrace. That was what he needed, a soft woman in his arms, a woman he loved and who loved him. He ran his hands down her back, enjoying the soft curve of her spine and the fullness of her buttocks.

Before she had welcomed Adam into her bed, she had never even known the bone-shaking pleasure, had just found a comfort in her husband's arms and his kisses but she had always ended their love making with an ache of fullness in her belly and restlessness in her soul and always had trouble sleeping afterward. But she had been told it was thus so she never expected more—until Adam Cartwright touched her body and set her skin aflame with a desire that threatened to overwhelm her, consume her.

Adam held her closer to him, a sense of desperation overtaking him, and kissed her throat and she threw her head back as his heated lips pressed against her skin. Adam felt that if he ever lost her, he would go mad. But with her, he felt himself transported to such raptures that he lost who he was until his senses returned—and it was because of her that he experienced such physical joys. He always searched for ways to express his deep gratitude and love.

"I love you," he said, hoarse with desire. "I need you more than air and I want you more than food or water. Those I can exist for a short time without but not without you—I want you and only you. Oh, Asia, I love you—adore you." And then he pressed her mouth under his and she willingly opened her mouth to him as she had opened her legs and as he had earlier pushed himself inside her, so he did with his tongue, commanding her to allow him in her dark, moist mouth.

One night a few months earlier, as they lay in the darkness, after she had kneeled between his legs and given him pleasure with her mouth, how the language for both orifices was the same. Both openings of the woman, he said, had lips and they both were rosy and inviting. And the lips protected the "mouth" and both were moist and dark and either opening could take a man into it and please him.

"And I suppose," Asia said, "above both is a pleasurable spot and that if you rub my nose I'll roll around in ecstatic pleasure?"

Adam laughed. He propped himself on an elbow, leaned down and kissed her on the tip of her nose. "Now, let's do a little experiment. Remember the kiss on your nose." He moved down on the bed and she knew what was coming, a thrill running through her as she pulled her arms into herself, placing her fists over her heart. She felt his fingers and his mouth as he placed a gentle kiss. She sighed in delight. Then his mouth was near her ear and she felt the roughness of his beard against her neck. "Was it the same?" he murmured.

"No." She turned her head to look into his gray-green eyes that were often so serious but now were drowsy and warm. "And it's a good thing it's not or I'd be constantly rubbing my own nose and embarrass myself in church constantly—and if I ever sneezed..."

Adam paused for a moment and then he laughed and pulled her to him, smiling. He kissed her hair. "You are everything to me," he said, "and I'll never give you up. Never. You're my lover, you're my friend and you make me laugh when I need it."

Asia was comforted by that; she knew Adam loved her. After all, he showed her in every way he knew to show her. He told her, made physical love to her, gave her little gifts and most of all, he respected her wishes and the way she wanted to handle their relationship. Some nights, he would bring his guitar, and calling those their "courting" nights, he would sit with her on the front porch of her house and sing while strumming his guitar. And then he would slowly seduce her, touching her gently and kissing her with a tenderness that he couldn't control when they were in the throes of passion, both striving to please the other and yet find their own joy in the other person's body.

Asia and Adam stood in her open doorway, her arms entwined around his neck while he leaned down and kissed her goodbye, his arms around her. She always insisted that Adam be gone by five in the morning. That was when Mr. Miller and his two sons came out to work the farm; she and they split the farm's profits between them and although Asia trusted Mr. Miller and his two grown sons and had never heard any gossip from them, she didn't want to give them any fodder to support the town gossips' presumption that Adam Cartwright spent long nights with her. So Adam left, coming back for one long kiss and then rode away. Asia watched until he was out of sight, thinking about the small birthday dinner that he had insisted she attend that night. Then went back into her house and closed the door. The house always seemed so empty to her after he left. He brought a light and joy to her quiet house that she needed. Asia admitted to herself that she needed a man in more than one way, but not just any man. She knew Adam was the only man she could love.

She had just put on coffee when there was a knock at her door. Since it wasn't yet time for the Miller men to arrive, it had to be Adam having returned to kiss her one last time or to tell her some small detail of his birthday dinner that he had forgotten, so she rushed and opened the door, smiling. But it wasn't Adam; it was a tall, handsome man whom she would have sworn she had never seen before.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

The man pulled off his hat and smiled at Asia Clavell, trying to use his good looks to his advantage. "Mrs. Clavell, how are you?" The man was well-dressed in an expensive suit and tie and held his bowler hat in his hand. "By the look on your face, it appears that you don't remember me. Surely that can't be true. After all, I was with your husband the night you two finally met." He watched her face change and then he knew that she did remember. "The Alhambra Club in Baltimore? We paid to have you sit with us and share champagne? I tried to buy you for the night. Remember?" He arched his brows lasciviously.

"Yes, I remember," she said, her face set in an expression of insouciance; she didn't want him to know that she was upset. "What do you want?" Asia pulled her wrap more closely about her and retied the belt. As she and Adam had said goodbye at the door, Adam had slid one hand inside the silk wrap and caressed her left breast and the wrap had gaped.

"May I come in?" He asked with a charming smile.

"No. Tell me what you want and then go away."

"I can't believe that you would turn me away, especially when I have such important information that affects not only you but the man who just left. That was Adam Cartwright, I believe, the man who murdered your husband and my best friend? You have no idea how shocked I was to see Cartwright leave your house this early in the morning and you wearing barely anything, just this light wrap. And what did I see him do?" He reached out quickly and grabbed her left breast, giving the nipple a quick pinch. She slapped his hand away and now her face did change from disinterest to fear. Asia stepped back and tried to close the door but he pushed it open and it slammed against the wall. He walked in and closed the door behind him, approaching her menacingly as she backed up into her parlor.

"Sit down, Mrs. Clavell. I have a few things to tell you and you had better listen and listen well, that is if you care anything about that man who just left—or even care about yourself."

Asia sat down and the man sat across from her. His name came to her suddenly; Dyer, Harvey Dyer, that was his name. "Mr. Dyer, what is it that is so important that you force your way in here? You don't have much time—Mr. Miller and his two sons…" She tried to sound threatening.

"Yes, I know, they come to work the farm but they won't arrive until at least 6:30. And I'm flattered that after almost four years, you remember my name. I know everything about the comings and goings at this farm, Asia—I may call you Asia, yes? Now let me see how good my memory is? At The Alhambra, your stage name was Muna, meaning desire, correct?" She coldly stared at him, offering no response. "Yes, and you were so beautiful—and I have to say that you still are. It's as if the death of Sam, of your beloved husband, never touched that lovely face of yours at all—not a line or a wrinkle. Did you cry? Did you grieve? Well, that's not really important, now, is it?" He sat back comfortably. "I really would like some of that coffee I smell. Let's go to the kitchen and talk. It will be a little friendlier."

Asia rose and walked to the kitchen and he followed her. She was aware of his footsteps behind her. The coffee was still percolating but it was dark enough that she poured them both a cup. She considered throwing the hot coffee in his face but then thought better of it. As much as she tried to pretend that what he had to say didn't interest her, it did, especially since it concerned Adam so she wanted to hear it. They sat at the round kitchen table and drank their coffee.

"Drop your robe off your shoulders as you did that night at The Alhambra. Of course, we paid you an extra hundred to expose yourself but I'm sure that you're willing to do it for old time's sake, aren't you?"

Asia sat still. "Do it!" Dyer said in a low, threatening voice. "You are a beautiful woman and I would like to use you in my plan but I can manage without you. Maybe finding your poor, naked, mangled body on your kitchen floor would work as well for my plan. But things will be so much easier if you do what I ask. I've learned quite a bit about inflicting pain in my travels and you really don't want me to refresh my talents on you. And some of the Oriental ways I know are so subtle yet so intense that you would beg for me to snap your neck instead."

Asia stared at him and then she untied her wrap and dropped it off her shoulders exposing her milky breasts. She sat upright, not trying to cover herself. She knew that she was beautiful, had sat in Adam's lap before with her dress open and her skirts pulled up slightly while he toyed with her and while he did that, he always admired her breasts, telling her about their beauty of the delicate, roseate hue of their proud tips.

"Oh, yes," Dyer said in a deep voice, his arousal obvious by his shifting of position. "I'd take you right here on this table except that you still have the stink of that murderer on you and I'll bet his damned seed is still running out of you and down your legs, isn't it?"

Asia didn't answer. She jumped slightly when Dyer slammed his fist on the table making the cups rattle in their saucers. "Isn't it? He's filled you, hasn't he?" he shouted, leaning toward her.

Asia leaned toward him, her face twisted with hate for this man sitting across from her. "He's my lover, but he's not a murderer. Sam was killed only because he tried to kill Adam Carwright. There were witnesses. They testified that it was self-defense."

"Money can convince a man to say anything—even to say that murder is self-defense. And what a fortunate coincidence that Cartwright killed the husband of his whore." Dyer practically spat out the last word.

"No," Asia said, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. "I wasn't his…whore. There was nothing between us until after…and it just happened. You have to understand. Sam was drunk and he accused Adam…"

"You think I don't know what happened?" He shouted at her. Asia pulled her wrap back up over her shoulders and held it shut at her throat. Dyer didn't seem to notice as he leaned across the small table and pointed a finger at her. "You listen and listen carefully. I went back to Baltimore after my business trip to Europe and found that two years earlier Sam had taken his new bride and his share of the profits from our business and left. But being a good business partner, he left papers for me and a note with our lawyer telling me where he had gone and inviting me to visit. So, since he and I were such good friends—and partners, I wanted to find him to give him his share of our latest shipping venture. Of course, I had matters in Baltimore to take care of and a mistress to please and then finally lose, so after another year, I decided to visit my friend, Sam and his bride, the lush and desirable Asia-and what do I find when I finally arrived at Virginia City last year? That only a few months after setting himself up in Virginia City, Sam had been shot down in cold blood by the great Adam Cartwright, the rich Adam Cartwright and not only that, but that Adam Cartwright, according to the people in town, is reputedly laying with Sam's grieving widow. I suppose that's just Cartwright's way to cheer you up for the loss of your husband, my dear." Dyer laughed. Asia was upset and that was what he wanted.

"So I did my due diligence, watched and waited and I found it to be true. I can't tell you how many nights I sat out there in the dark just to make sure of it. I watched you welcome that murderer whenever he came and how he fondled you and sang songs to you on your front porch and you'd let him touch you under your clothes—invited him to touch you. I saw it all. And I heard it all—I talked to everyone in Virginia City who would talk and I learned all the details—all the details. And I know everything."

"You know nothing. All you heard is just gossip," Asia said quietly, hoping to calm him.

"Gossip? Did anyone spread any gossip about Asia Clavell? Did they talk about how Asia Clavell used to dance practically naked in The Alhambra Club and how she would let men pay for her sedate company as they sat and drank champagne and if they were either very lucky or very rich, 'Muna' would reveal those lovely breasts and they might even be allowed to touch the tight little nipples as they poked out. Has Adam Cartwright heard that gossip?" He stared at her as she sat stonily. "Has he? Does he know what you did? Is that why he hasn't married you?"

"No."

"No to what?"

"No to all of it. Adam doesn't know about The Alhambra Club and that's not the reason he hasn't married me but it's part of the reason I haven't married him."

"And you never will—I'll see to that. I have this letter." Dyer pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket's inside pocket and unfolded it. Asia sat forward and looked at the paper in his hands. She reached for it but he laughed. "I'm not such a fool as to let you hold it—why, you'd tear it up. You see, it's a letter from that lovely friend of yours in the chorus line—Frieda. Remember her?"

"Yes, I remember her." A chill ran through Asia.

"Well, she remembered you and when I introduced myself and told her what I wanted, well, that Frieda, she was a bit reluctant but I convinced her to write to you. And so she wrote this letter. I'm going to read it to you.

Dear Asia,

Please, I beg you not to go through with your plans with your lover to murder your husband. I understand that Adam Cartwright, is wealthier than Mr. Clavell but it's not worth a man's life, especially a man as wonderful as your husband. You say that Mr. Cartwright is going to make it appear self-defense but it will still be murder.

I hope that this letter reaches you in time to prevent this unconscionable act and I pray that you decide that the damnation of your soul isn't worth the acts of adultery that you say you perform with this Cartwright man. But no matter what you choose to enact, I remain your friend always.

I plead with you to abort your ill-advised plan. Do not let Adam Cartwright lead you down this path to perdition.

Forever your friend,

Frieda"

"That's a lie. She didn't write that."

"But she did. Look at the handwriting." Dyer turned the letter around so that Asia could see it.

"It may be her handwriting but when she's questioned, she'll tell the truth—that it's a lie and that you made her write it. I'm sure that you forced her to write it—or arranged it so that she had no choice. She'll tell the truth."

Dyer laughed and refolded the paper and slipped it inside his jacket pocket. "Sadly, the young woman met with a terrible accident—it may have been suicide, guilt over having never mailed this letter to you and perhaps stopping Sam's murder. I don't think anyone really knows the reason but somehow, she ended up on the cobblestones below, her head cracked open from the fall." Dyer gave a false shiver at the memory. "I personally think that she threw herself out the window, her conscience being so bothered by this terrible secret she held. Such a shame. Such a waste. I really should take this letter to the Sheriff so that justice, not just for Sam but for poor, lovely Frieda as well, can be done. "

Asia sat quietly for a few moments, gathering her thoughts. She was close to panicking. "What do you want?"

"Other than justice for Sam—I haven't quite decided." He stood up and then reached for his coffee cup and drained it. "Good coffee," he said. "I'll come back to see you when I decide exactly what I want. Goodbye, Asia." Dyer walked over and grabbing her jaw, bent down and kissed her. Then laughing, he walked out the kitchen door and Asia ran to the sink and spat into it. She pumped water into her hand and then rubbed the water over her lips, scrubbing them with her fingers. It was like being kissed by a snake.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

The mantle clock had just struck eight so Asia knew it was Adam at the door—he was always punctual if he could help it. She looked up at him as he smiled down at her and then bent to kiss her. She raised her hand and touched his cheek. He took her hand in his and kissed her curled fingers.

"You look beautiful," he said, "almost too beautiful to grace us mere mortals. Get your gossamer wings and let's leave." Adam was always so proud to be seen with Asia Clavell as she turned heads no matter where she went. But she seemed to be unaware of it unless there was a man around wanting her attention and then, it was as if she struggled not to be noticed. And tonight she was dressed in a dark green dress that complemented her pale skin and dark hair.

"Adam…" Asia stepped back into the house and turned her back to him.

"What is it?" He came up behind her and placed his hands on her partially bare shoulders, bending down to kiss her bare neck,

She pulled away. "I have a terrible headache. I tried to lie down and get rid of it but my head's just throbbing. Would you mind so much if I didn't go tonight."

His face reflected his suspicions—she didn't want to go tonight but he doubted it was a headache. Nevertheless, she did look distressed and she even seemed to be shaking. "All right, we'll stay here. Come." He put his arm around her and began to walk her into the parlor. "Do you have any laudanum? I'll wait with you until you sleep. I'll massage your feet; how's that? Let's go upstairs and put you to bed but it is a shame to take off that dress. You do look mighty pretty tonight."

"Adam," Asia placed her hand on his chest, twisting out of his embrace. "It's your birthday dinner, you need to be there when your guests arrive. I'll be fine."

Adam knew Asia well enough to know she was lying. "What's really wrong?' Adam asked. "It's more than a headache, isn't it, that is if you really have one? I know you don't like being with my family or friends and I don't understand why not. They're good people and they've never said anything unkind about you. "

"Well, they wouldn't to you, now, would they? You seem to jump to my defense all the time, even if no insult is intended. I always feel like such a fool and I have nothing to say to them…oh, never mind. The night air will probably make me feel better. It was so warm today—warmer than usual and I just think maybe the heat...Let me get my wrap; I'll go."

"If you don't feel well then don't. I'll sit with you for a while. They'll wait."

"No. I'll go." She reached for her shawl and Adam lovingly placed it around her shoulders. He knew that she was keeping something from him. She may have a headache but there was more and Adam began to worry. His fear was that she would cut him off, tell him that she no longer cared to see him—that there was someone else. She was so young and lovely that it could even be one of the Miller sons who had won her heart.

They basically rode in silence. Asia wondered if Dyer had been lurking about her house, watching them leave and if he was following them. She had glanced behind them a few times and Adam asked her what was wrong. She only said that she had thought she heard a horse. And the longer they sat in quiet, the more Asia worried. Many times in the past three years, Asia had almost told Adam about herself, what she had done for a living in Baltimore, how she had met her husband, but each time the words started to form deep in her throat, she stopped herself. But she decided that later tonight, after the party, then she would tell him. So Asia sat stiffly on the seat and Adam kept glancing at her profile, considering how lovely she was but wondering why she was so quiet and anxious. Her behavior upset him.

It was completely dark by the time they arrived at the Ponderosa. There were Chinese lanterns strung along the porch and a few carriages were parked in the yard. Asia knew that they were those of Adam's closest friends and their wives. She recognized Roy Coffee's horse from all the times she had seen it in town but there were a few other horses tied onto the hitching rail as well. These were the only guests Adam had wanted, other than her and his brothers and any young women they chose to invite.

Actually, Adam hadn't wanted any guests at all, didn't like to celebrate his birthday, and Hoss suspected that Adam would try to drag out the cattle drive so that they wouldn't arrive back home until after Adam's birthday but instead, he pushed them. They had finally, after the three day deluge they had ridden through, slept through, eaten in and shit in, stopped in a small town three days distance from home; the weather had been so wet and miserable that the trail hands needed time to dry out as well as the horses and Hoss complained that his fingers and palms were so wet that they stayed wrinkled. Adam had told him that it must give an intriguing new sensation when he "took himself in hand" to satisfy his needs; like doing an old, wrinkled woman. Hoss told him that he was funny and said that the first thing he was going to do once he washed and dried out was to go find the best whorehouse in town and spend the whole time wallowing in dry sheets with" a big ol' whore," so before Hoss left the hotel room that he and Adam shared, he asked Adam if he was interested in coming along. Adam said no, he wasn't; the only thing he was interested in was pushing on.

"Adam, don't tell me that you gotta remain faithful to Asia Clavell?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You think everybody's stupid, don't you. Stupid and blind. Hell, Adam, ain't a person in Virginia City don't know that she spreads her legs for you." Hoss waited to see if Adam's fist was going to shoot out and catch him on the jaw but Adam said nothing, just moved away toward the bed.

"Go find your whore." Adam said as he lay on the bed, his arms crossed behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles.

"I don't know 'bout you, Adam," Hoss had said standing at the door, his almost dry hat in his hand. "I can't figure why you won't just marry her. Hell, you act as if you already are, you may as well be. It's been 'bout three years since Clavell, well, since Sam died, so ain't it 'bout time?" Hoss waited but Adam said nothing more. "I guess we'll be back home soon enough for you to oil your pole in her but I can't see that a quick one in a whorehouse is gonna do any harm and it'll make you more amiable 'cause you sure as hell ain't been easy to live with." And then Hoss left.

And when he was alone, Adam closed his eyes and thought of the woman who had enchanted him. Once he had half-seriously accused her of being a sorceress and asked if she used his seed in a magic spell to make him bound to her forever. For to Adam, that was how it seemed; it was as if she controlled him with every glance and touch of her hand on him. Just her scent was intoxicating. Often he would bury his face in her hair and breathe in her scent and he almost became lightheaded with desire. And when he kissed her, the sweetness of her mouth intrigued him and the subtle yielding of her lips matched the subtle yielding of her body; she allowed him to possess her but Adam knew that if she chose to be cruel, he would be on his knees begging for her favors. The only reason he hadn't dropped to his knees, his head bowed in subservience at least a hundred times before was due only to her mercy.

Adam thought about Asia, of her full mouth and her white, soft neck. He remembered how she would wrap her arms about him and pull him to her. "I miss you, Asia!" he said to the air. And he considered saddling up and leaving the others behind so that he could ride all day and night to get to her, to tear at her in his passion to have her, to feel her bare flesh under him and hear her moans and cries as he roughly took her. That was what he wanted—no soft, tender love-making, but an almost violent ravishing of her milky flesh. That was what he wanted but he never would—he knew that. But he did want her in the perverse way that a man wants to completely possess a woman and have her do anything he desired, anything to please him, no matter how humiliating to her. And deep down, he knew that Asia would do so had he commanded it—but he held himself back from demands of that type; he was afraid of what would be released from the dark part of his soul.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

Adam swung Asia down from the carriage and when she was standing in front of him, he kissed her again. "Feeling any better?" He examined her face, trying to comprehend her odd expression.

"Yes," she lied but she couldn't look at him. Asia didn't feel better. Her stomach was still in knots; she knew that Adam's family and friends tolerated her because he loved her. She was younger than his friends' wives and although she had learned when she had worked at The Alhambra how to keep a conversation light and pleasant, she had difficulty with women. Men were easy to keep entertained but she had to make an effort not to use her wiles on them—it was a trait that she found herself falling into when she let herself relax. It was so easy to arouse a man, to make them hard and to want her. Just a downcast of her eyes and then a glance up at them and they were sweating like a horse, wanting to mount her. It took vigilance; she didn't want to embarrass Adam by unconsciously falling back into her early training.

And the oddest part, Asia always thought, was that she hadn't used any womanly tricks on Adam. It was the other way around; he was the one who had always smiled at her and melted her heart, would kiss her hand and then glance at her as if he wanted to ravish every inch of her but had to settle for her mere hand and when he would say her name and ask after her, Asia found that she would become uncomfortable with a fullness in her belly. And Adam's half-smile let her know that he was aware that he disturbed her.

Nevertheless, Asia knew that Ben, Adam's father, didn't care for her or for the effect she had on him or on Adam. So Asia was particularly cautious around him but no matter what, she recognized that he was attracted to her but that he felt it was wrong since she was—for all purposes—Adam's.

The whole evening was difficult for Asia but she was pleased that Adam seemed happy and it was touching to see how well-loved he was. This was the first year that Adam had been able to talk Asia into coming and joining in the celebration of his day of birth and only the fourth time she had conceded to visit the Ponderosa. That was the only point of contention between them; Adam wanted Asia to be a greater part of his life but she refused. Over and over she refused and Adam would become frustrated and then angry and she knew no other way to respond except with tears or coldness—and the coldness was the worst as far as Adam was concerned. Passionate feelings he could deal with but when she punished him with coldness, he would leave and be in misery until he went to see her and she would take him into her bed again. And as they would lie together, he would apologize and they would comfort each other in the knowledge that they shared a bond that couldn't be so easily shattered. But Asia knew that there probably were some things that Adam wouldn't, that he couldn't abide.

The grandfather clock had just chimed at half past ten in the evening when there was a knock at the door. Adam looked at his father; everyone who had been invited had shown and almost all had left except for one couple who was gathering their things to leave. It was possible that someone had met with a bad situation—a broken wheel or a lame horse, and returned to the house. The look between father and son shared an expectation of bad news.

"Hey, Adam," Hoss called, "you 'spectin' anyone else? Maybe some old girlfriend's shown up to wish you many unhappy returns!' Hoss laughed while the others enjoyed his joke as well.

Adam just shook his head and went to the door—but he was cautious; it was late and guests were leaving, not arriving. He opened the door and a tall, well-dressed man was outside.

"Yes? Did you need something?" Adam looked at him with suspicion.

"I'm sorry. I know it's late—oh, I'm Harvey Dyer, an old friend of Mr. and Mrs. Clavell's, and I was told that she was here and I've come so far to see her that…" He stopped because Adam stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

"I don't know who told you and I don't care enough to ask, but I'm sorry. Mrs. Clavell is a guest tonight and we're enjoying her company. You'll have to see her tomorrow." Adam turned at the sound of the door opening behind him and Asia stepped out.

"It's all right, Adam. Good evening, Mr. Dyer. I didn't expect you."

"Asia…" Adam wanted her inside the house, especially since he noticed a certain indecipherable look between her and Dyer, but to Adam, Asia seemed to look at the man with loathing. So Adam decided he didn't like this man or trust the way he was looking at Asia, almost smirking.

"It's all right, Adam. Really—it is. Go back to your guests. I won't be long." Adam stood, not leaving. "Please. I have business with Mr. Dyer. Private business." Adam reluctantly left her and went back inside.

"What do you want?" Asia began to shake with impotent anger.

"To upset him—that's what I want and I see I did. You see, my dear, Asia, he's going to want to kill me sooner or later and I'm going to have to kill him first—in self-defense, of course. All the witnesses will say that he called me out and drew first and this, my darling, Asia, is the first step in the process."

"Leave him alone," she hissed at Dyer. "Leave Adam Cartwright alone."

"And what will you do if I don't?"

"I'll kill you myself."

The door opened and Dyer grabbed Asia and she was too surprised to resist; he kissed her long and hard, finally releasing her and looking at the faces of Adam Cartwright and his guests who were leaving.

Asia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and ducking her head, went back into the house. Adam walked the couple to their carriage, helping the wife up and told his embarrassed guests goodbye and Dyer, grinning, waited on the porch for Adam to return. Adam walked up to Dyer and without giving any indication, swung at the man and knocked him down on the wooden planks. Dyer, partially prone, rubbed his jaw, not getting up while Adam braced himself, his fists by his side.

"Get up, you bastard. Get up so I can knock you down again."

"Oh, no, I'm not a fool but you obviously are. I don't suppose that Asia ever told you how she met her husband. It's the same way she met me."

"What are you talking about?" Adam asked.

"You let me stand up and I'll tell you."

Adam stepped back, straightened his jacket, and then rubbed his sore knuckles. "Tell me."

After straightening his own clothing and dusting himself off, Dyer began to tell Adam about Asia, who before she married, was Asia DePierre. She was a beautiful child who had begun dancing in the chorus line of a man's club when she was only fifteen; Sam had noticed her then, the lithe, young beauty with swelling breasts, a supple waist and undulant hips. But by the time Asia was twenty, she commanded the stage where she performed the Dance of the Seven Veils and ended the dance naked on the stage, her body glowing in the stage lights. The men would stand and applaud and then try to buy time with her afterwards. A more seductive Salome had never existed before—or since, Dyer added.

Dyer asked Adam if he had ever been in Baltimore and if he had, had he visited The Alhambra Club? Adam said yes to both questions—it had been after the war. He asked if Adam remembered Asia…or Muna, which was her stage name. Adam said that, no, he didn't.

"Then Asia must have been married and gone by then."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because had you seen her, you would have remembered—you would have fallen in love with her too—as every man did. As I did, as Sam did, and as every man waiting in the long line at her dressing room door had. Oh, we all longed for the seductive Salome. But she chose Sam, the lucky bastard. Maybe it was his money, maybe the fact that he adored her or maybe because Sam was a fool and his heart was good. I had the business acumen; I was the one who managed the business end. Sam, with his bonhomie, drummed up the customers; everyone liked him, trusted him and he was trustworthy. We never cheated anyone and still managed to rake in the profits." Dyer sighed. "I suppose that's why Sam failed here—really no head for business, and Sam as a farmer is laughable. That must be why he drank so much—he hadn't before he met the bitch. Or maybe it was learning his wife had a lover."

"If you mean me, you're wrong. We weren't lovers."

"Not yet? That's what you mean, isn't it? Well, that's your story but remember that Sam was my friend. He loved Asia, that I do know, and 'if"—I'm using if although I don't think it's a conditional conclusion-she had taken a lover, he would be broken-hearted."

Adam hated this man standing in front of him. But he knew that what Dyer had said about Asia, her past and Sam Clavell was true. He wanted the satisfaction of beating Harvey Dyer into a whimpering, bloody figure on the porch, a man begging Adam not to hit him again but Adam couldn't beat a man for telling the truth—no matter how much he wanted to.

Both Adam and Dyer looked to the sound of the front door. Ben Cartwright stood in the lighted doorway, Asia before him.

Ben spoke, looking back and forth at the two men. Ben felt confirmed in his belief that Asia was nothing but trouble and had wanted to tell Adam so many times; she was too young, too beautiful, too desirable for an ordinary man. But Ben also knew that she had trapped Adam between her legs, whether it was intentional on her part or not. And Adam was lost, stabbed through the heart with love for a woman who didn't seem worthy of his devotion.

"Everything all right, out here?" Ben asked.

"Yes, fine," Adam said. He looked at Asia who wouldn't meet his eye; she just pulled her shawl tighter about her.

Dyer put out his hand and Ben shook it. "I'm Harvey Dyer, an old friend and business partner of Sam Clavell's. I came to see Mrs. Clavell since I'm sure she has his power of attorney to dissolve our shipping business or remain in as an equal partner. Besides, she had some profits from her husband's and my last venture; I spent quite a bit of time in Greece and Italy and purchased some fine pieces of art that I'm sure will fetch quite a bit of money in New York. I wanted her to accompany me but I can see that her heart is here."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Dyer. Will you be in Virginia City long?" Ben asked politely.

Dyer looked pointedly at Asia. "That all depends on the lovely Mrs. Clavell. I'm afraid that my presence may only remind her of the loss of her beloved husband—and I'm sure the memory causes her pain, especially since…" Dyer looked at Adam, paused, and then continued. "Well, I must be going." Dyer stepped off the porch and then turned back. "I'll come by your place tomorrow, Mrs. Clavell. Perhaps around noon unless you prefer another time?"

"No," she said. "There is no time I prefer."

Dyer mounted his horse and tipping his hat again toward the three people on the porch, he rode off.

"Will you take me home now, Adam?" Asia asked.

"Yes. Let me get the carriage." Adam went to pull the carriage around and up to the porch but while he was doing it, Ben touched Asia's arm. She looked up at him.

"Mrs. Clavell, I have a feeling that there's more to this matter with Mr. Dyer than I'll ever know but I only hope that you haven't dragged Adam into some mess. If there is anything illegal or such about Mr. Dyer's and your husband's business dealings, my suggestion is to extricate yourself as soon as possible—sign everything over to Dyer. And I ask you as a father thinking of his son, of the young boy he is inside, don't destroy Adam. He loves you—I can see why but yet I don't understand it. He, with all his years and experience should know better than to lose his heart so completely."

The carriage rolled in front of the porch and Ben walked Asia over and helped her up to the seat. Asia turned to Ben, her face tense and drawn.

"Good night, Mr. Cartwright. Thank you for having me over. I enjoyed our talk—thank you." And she sighed deeply and Adam, hatless but too upset to let it bother him, began the drive to her farm.

"Dyer told you about me, about Baltimore and The Alhambra Club."

"Yes. I don't know if what he said is true or not but he told me."

"I'm sure it's true. I was going to tell you myself, Adam, so many times. I didn't at first because I was certain you would quickly tire of me and then it wouldn't matter and then, as things went on, there really wasn't any need. I wasn't a whore, Adam, just a dancer." Asia watched his face but Adam just stared ahead and said nothing but she saw his jaw muscles working and knew that he was controlling his temper. "I was going to tell you on the ride over tonight—Dyer came by this morning…"

"What? He came by? Why didn't you tell me?" Adam pulled up the horse. "What the hell is going on, Asia?"

Asia wanted to tell him everything, to clear her conscience but it might make the situation worse. And then it dawned on her. Dyer wanted her to tell Adam, wanted her to cry in Adam's arms and tell him all that Dyer had done to her—how he had kissed her, implied violence if she didn't slide out of her robe and sit naked before him, threatened both her and Adam and somehow, managed to get a damning letter from a now-dead woman. Adam would then be violently angry, would want to defend her and take things into his own hands. After all, the law could do nothing. Dyer had broken no laws, never actually threatened her and he could easily deny any threats toward Adam. Apparently there was no problem with the law in Baltimore after Frieda's suicide. Asia knew that if she told Adam that Dyer wanted to kill him, Adam would ride into town to give Dyer the chance. Adam would then be playing into Dyer's hands.

"He…he said that he wants to dissolve the business agreement. Dyer never thought that I was worthy of being Sam's wife, that I had somehow duped Sam into marrying me. He wants the partnership to be over and done with. Tomorrow, I'll sign away my interest in his business and I'm sure that then he'll leave Virginia City. When you saw him kiss me on the porch, he…well, he thought I was…I don't know what he thought, Adam. I'm tired and I want to go home. Please don't ask me about anything else tonight. Please. Just take me home."

Adam slapped the reins on the horse's back and they continued. It was a dark night, cloudy and with a slight breeze. Adam had to be careful of the road, that they hit no deep ruts. It had been raining, his father had told him and stopped only a day before their return from the trail drive, and some of the roads had washed away or developed deep ruts.

Adam stared ahead into the dark. "I want to be there when Dyer comes back tomorrow. I'll be there at noon as well."

"Adam, it's not necessary…"

"I happen to think it is. I also think that you're not telling me the truth—at least not all of it."

And Asia felt sick to her stomach. She knew she was a pawn and that Dyer was going to use her to get at Adam and she didn't know how to stop it. But stop it, she had to.

Asia thought she wanted Adam to leave immediately after he took her home but then, when he held her next to him and kissed her, she felt herself melt into his embrace and she desperately didn't want him to go.

"Can you stay tonight?" She asked.

"Listen to me," Adam said, "I want to stay, I love you but I'm also so angry with you that…I want to be gentle with you, hold you and kiss you but I also want to—be less that gentle. Can you understand that? And I don't think both feelings are mutually exclusive, so I think I should just leave."

"Adam, I know that you're upset about Dyer—but after tomorrow, I'll sign off on the business and Dyer will leave and we'll never have to see him again. I promise that, Adam." And Asia meant it; on the ride home, she had devised plans of her own.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

Adam rode over to Asia Clavell's about 11:30 in the morning; he wanted to be there when Harv Dyer showed up at Asia's door. He wanted to witness any business transaction or anything else that passed between Asia and Dyer. But when Adam rapped on the door, there was no answer. Adam rapped again and he heard a voice calling him. He turned around. The youngest Miller boy came out of the barn holding a pitchfork.

"Mrs. Clavell left about an hour ago, Mr. Carwtright," he said.

"Oh? Did she leave alone?"

"No, sir. A man rode up and told me to hitch up her carriage so I did and they rode off toward town together. Threw me a quarter. I don't know if that was where they was going, to town, but they headed that way."

Adam thanked him and remounted but before he rode away, Adam asked for a description of the man.

"Tall, dressed nice and wore a bowler. Mrs. Clavell, she didn't seem to like him too much but, well, he grabbed her and kissed her in front of me and my pa. She was embarrassed but he wasn't. He just kinda laughed about it and told her to get used to it and that she better learn to like it. Oh and he added that she better learn to like it if she knew what was good for her—and for you. Don't know why he said that about you."

"Thanks." Adam kicked his horse and galloped as far as his horse could before the animal had to recover by cantering for a stretch. Then Adam pushed his horse again and by the time he reached the Imperial Hotel in Virginal City, the horse was lathered and its chest heaving.

"What room is Dyer in?" Adam asked the desk clerk.

The desk clerk was flustered and stepped back; he didn't know how Adam would react. "He and his new wife took the bridal suite this morning."

"His wife? Who's his wife?" Adam asked but he knew—it could only be Asia.

"Mrs. Clavell only now she's Mrs. Dyer."

Adam took the stairs two at a time until he reached the room that was known as the "bridal suite." He hammered on it with his fist. He waited and then it was opened by Asia. She had wrapped a sheet about her, clutching it together. He was shocked at her appearance; she looked disheveled, her hair a mess, and her lips were swollen and bruised.

"Asia, are you all right? Did you marry Dyer?"

"Yes. I did—I married him. There was nothing else to be done—there was no other choice…"

"Asia, there's always a choice? If you needed money, I would have given it to you. Asia, anything you needed…" Adam stopped himself. He studied her pale face; she didn't look like a happy bride; she looked as if she was going to cry. And as he stood there, Dyer stepped out from behind the door, pushing Asia aside, and smiled at him.

"I asked Asia if you'd like to come to the wedding but she said no. Nevertheless, I hope that you won't begrudge us our happiness." Adam said nothing, just looked at Asia who dropped her eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me and my new bride, we're on our honeymoon and you know how newlyweds are just getting to know one another—in all the intimate ways that newlyweds do. I suppose that I know her as well by now as you do—every opening, every nerve on her—those that cause both pleasure and pain because I have been exploring her delightful flesh that you yourself have exploited for your own delight so many times in the past." Dyer grabbed Asia by the arm and jerked her back into the room. Adam could hear Asia fall against the furniture and he started to force his way in. Dyer pushed his foot against the door to keep it from opening any further.

"Mind your own business, Cartwright. Asia is my wife now and my business only." And he slammed the door shut, turning the key in the lock.

Adam had been sitting in the saloon for two hours nursing a beer; he wanted his head clear while he tried to make sense of what had happened but couldn't. He had to talk to Asia—had to see her no matter what. Adam went out onto the street to head for the hotel and saw Dyer walking in the opposite direction. Adam stopped and watched and decided that Dyer was on his way either to the bank or to a lawyer. But it didn't matter; Asia wasn't with him and that meant she was alone at the hotel.

She didn't want to let him in, tried to cover her face but he gently pushed the door open and then saw what she had been trying to hide. One side of her face was bruised as if being struck with the back of a hand and she pulled the sheet in which she had wrapped herself more tightly about but he could still see a bruise on her arm and a set of teeth marks on her shoulder.

"I'll kill him for this," Adam said quietly. He raised her chin and saw tears roll down her cheeks.

"No," she said. "That's what he wants. He was going to take me out to the Ponderosa looking like this so that you would see. He wants you to try to kill him—to call him out. I thought I had thwarted his plan but I didn't—he obviously had more than one scenario planned and I fell into it."

Adam helped her to the bed where she sat and he sat beside her. He put an arm around her but she pulled away, shrugging off his arm.

"Don't. I smell like him—I stink of him. You need to leave before he returns. He'll kill you, Adam. He's sworn to it and he will. And then he'll kill me. He promised me that and he also promised that it won't be a pretty death. I thought I was so clever, that I had outsmarted him but I hadn't. He's won if he finds you with 'his wife.' He'll be justified in shooting you. He'll have won."

"Asia, I'm not leaving you here with him. Here." Adam pulled her clothes off a chair over which they had been thrown. "Put them on. I'll help you."

"I…" she looked at the pile of polished cotton fabric and the lacy underthings, the things Dyer had pulled off and the manner in which he ripped apart the front of her dress and then helped himself to "the most beautiful breasts I've ever seen." And as he helped Asia dress, Adam saw red bite marks on her white flesh, slap marks on her breasts, and he became furious.

"Let's go, Asia. I'm going to take you back to the Ponderosa."

"I can't, Adam. I'm his wife. He'll find me and he'll kill you."

"Don't be so sure. Let's go."

"The front of my dress—the buttons have been torn—I can't keep it together."

Adam looked around and saw a long table runner. He pulled it off, knocking over the vase of flowers as he tugged it off in one movement. He wrapped it about her shoulders and told her to use it for a shawl. Then he walked her down the stairs and Asia, her hair falling loose from the style she had worn entering the hotel, hunched over so that the desk clerk wouldn't see her face and the bruise.

"Mrs. Dyer, do you want to leave a message for your husband? He asked me to send for him if you left."

"Where is he?" Adam asked.

"He said he was going over to Tyler Jacks, that new lawyer in town."

"You send a message and tell him that Mrs. Dyer is at the Ponderosa and that if he wants her, he can come get her."

"Yes, sir." The desk clerk recognized the table runner but decided to just keep his mouth shut; he wasn't fool enough to confront Adam Cartwright.

On the ride to the Ponderosa, Asia explained to Adam all that had transpired. She told him about the letter that she was sure Dyer had forced her friend, Frieda, to write and Asia said that she was as sure that Dyer had killed Frieda afterwards—thrown her from a window. Sam had always been concerned, Asia said, about Dyer's strong-arm tactics and his tendency to use physical force when persuasion didn't work and obviously, he was right.

The letter, she explained, was going to be used as proof that Adam and she planned and plotted to kill Sam and no one would be able to refute it since the author was dead. Asia told Adam that she had wanted to tell him until she realized that she would be setting up Adam to be killed. That was why she hadn't told him about Dyer and the whole truth about her past.

That morning, Asia explained, Dyer had come early to the farm. He said that he was sure that Adam Cartwright would be there at noon and he wanted to beat him to the punch. He also wanted to give Asia a choice; either Asia could marry him, Dyer, and he could hurt Cartwright that way, or Asia could refuse him and then Dyer would wait until the right time, when Adam Cartwright was riding on a lonely stretch of road and he would shoot Adam in the back—kill him without his even being given the last rites—"cut off in the blossoms of his sin which is his lust for you—unhouseled, disappointed, unaneled, no reckoning made, but sent to his account with all his imperfections on his head—straight to hell."

"What?" she had asked. Asia was confused but understood that Dyer was saying he was going to kill Adam before he had made peace with the world and with God and therefore, Dyer would send him straight to hell.

"You ignorant, little beauty." Dyer smiled at the fact that Asia didn't recognize Shakespeare. "Ah, Asia, that really only makes you lovelier. If you don't marry me, well, the demons will drag your beloved Adam to hell. Do you want that for him?"

Asia just stared at him, trying to think but with the threats to Adam's life, her mind froze. She thought she had outwitted him, that she had kept silent so that Adam would go after Dyer. And that had been his plan, to enrage Adam and have Adam call him out. But that hadn't worked since Asia kept her mouth shut, so he had to fall back on the other plan. And this one worked; Asia agreed to marry him. But Dyer wasn't completely satisfied—Adam wouldn't try to kill him for just marrying his darling Asia. No. But if he hit her, bruised her delicate loveliness, left bruises and marks on her pink and white flesh that was as delicately colored as the inside of a conch shell, then Adam would be infuriated and want to kill him. And Adam did.

Adam rented a carriage at the livery, and tying his horse to the back, took Asia to the Ponderosa and turned her over to his father's keeping; Hoss and Joe were out on the property.

"I'm going into town to have a little 'talk' with Dyer."

Asia reached out for him and clasped his arm. "Please, Adam. It's what he wants. Don't go!"

"And who am I to deny him that satisfaction?" Adam kissed her gently and then took her hands from his arm and kissed them. He checked his gun again to make sure it was loaded and in working order.

Asia tried again to get to Adam but Ben pulled her back. "Adam, please don't go! He'll kill you!' Ben held her tightly in his large arms and she sobbed against his chest.

Ben handed the sobbing woman over to Hop Sing who tried to comfort her, taking her into the kitchen. Ben followed Adam outside. It was about four in the afternoon and would be dark in two hours.

"Adam, what are you going to do?"

"Well, I've made Asia a widow once—I can do it again."

"Adam, don't be a fool. Go to Roy, Tell him what Asia told you. He can use the law.."

Adam held on to his saddle horn and his reins with one hand, the other on the cantle. "How? It's not against the law for a man to 'discipline' his wife. And if it comes to threats, well, it's Dyer's word against hers." Adam mounted up and held back his horse who was eager to go again. "Make sure Asia stays here. Let her have a hot bath and then put her to bed with some of Hop Sing's tea. I'll be home soon." And Adam rode off while Ben watched, his heart filled with fear that this would be the last time he would see his son alive. Damn Asia Clavell, Ben thought.

"You have my woman, don't you?" Dyer asked. Adam was standing at the bar in the Sazarac, one foot propped on the rail, waiting for Adam to show up. He hadn't had to wait long.

Adam glanced at Dyer who stood braced, his right hand hovering over his gun holster. Adam took another sip of whiskey and then reached for the bottle and poured himself more.

"Yes. I have Asia at the Ponderosa. I plan to keep her there too."

"Cartwright! I have every right to call you out for abducting my wife—you took her right out of our marriage bed. She's mine now—not yours."

"Well, actually—she's not yours and as for you calling me out, well, I've had a few drinks and I don't think my hand's steady enough to draw. Matter of fact…" Adam reached across his hips with his left hand and pulled out his gun, placing it gently on the counter and then sent it sliding down the bar where a man at the end stopped it. Then Adam quickly lifted his hands. "…I'm unarmed."

"Take your gun back."

"No, no, I don't think so. But if you want to get her back, if you really want her then we can go at it."

Dyer smiled. "Fisticuffs, huh?" Dyer thought that Adam was more of a fool than he thought; he had quite a bit of experience in bare-fisted boxing, having been a fan for quite a while before he became involved in the sport.

Adam grinned. "If you say so, fisticuffs, it is." Adam unbuckled his gun belt, carefully watching Dyer as he did the same; Adam didn't want to be taken by surprise.

"Marquis of Queensbury rules? At least as far as knock-outs and such—fair play and all."

"Whatever you say," Adam said.

Dyer crouched and motioned with his hands, urging Adam to come at him. "Come on, Cartwright. It's going to be a great pleasure to beat your face to an unrecognizable pulp."

Adam stepped into Dyer's swing space and as Dyer shot out a fist to jab at Adam, Adam dropped below the fist and swung up, catching Dyer in the throat. Dyer's eyes widened and he clutched at his throat, dropping to his knees and trying desperately to breathe.

"Damn the Marquis of Queensbury, damn his rules and damn you!" Adam said. And with Dyer still trying to breathe, his mouth working wordlessly, Adam swung down and knocked Dyer over. Then Adam straddled Dyer's chest, grabbed him by his shirtfront, pulled him up and hit him again, and again, the sound of cartilage cracking as Adam smashed Dyer's nose, blood spurting out.

"Adam, Adam, stop—that's enough." Both Hoss and Joe were behind Adam, pulling him off Dyer who was basically just trying for every breath he could, the blood bubbling out of his nose as he finally exhaled and inhaled, gasping air through his mouth, the upper lip split. Adam looked at his hand; one of Dyer's teeth was stuck in his knuckle.

Adam's chest heaved with anger and his murderous rage at Dyer began to slowly subside. Hoss held Adam's shoulders. "Dang, Adam, you almost killed that bastard with your own hands. Settle down, boy, c'mon."

Hoss pushed Adam into a chair and put three fingers in the air for the bartender to bring him three beers, one for each brother. In the meantime, Joe and a few of the other men in the bar tended to Dyer and one man went to fetch the doctor.

"What the hell is going on?" Sheriff Coffee asked when he arrived, his gun drawn to stop any trouble. He looked at Dyer who now lay still on the floor, his face swollen and disfigured. Then he looked at Adam who just stared at Dyer and rubbed his hand. "Hoss, what happened?"

"I ain't quite sure, Roy. Looks to me though, as if this Dyer here and Adam got in a fight. Ain't neither one got a gun on 'em."

"Get Adam home. I'll take statements and there isn't any saying that I won't ride out tomorrow and arrest Adam. But get him home before I toss his ass in jail for starting trouble—got it?"

"Yeah, Roy. I got it. Don't worry none. I got it. Just let us drink our beers here and…"

"Get out now, Hoss."

"Dang, Roy." But Adam reached down and picked up his beer mug that had just arrived and downed half of it.

"That's a good beer," Adam said. "I guess we can go home now, Hoss. Get Joe. I have to soak this hand—put some sulfa powder on it."


	7. Chapter 7

Epilogue

Harv Dyer took months to recover from his beating at Adam's hands and although Adam didn't make Asia a widow twice, he did manage to have their family lawyer, Hiram, take Asia's case and successfully arrange an annulment for Asia and Dyer's marriage, proving by her bruises and testimony that she had married Dyer under duress.

Soon after, Adam visited Asia at her farm. She was packing her clothes, the trunk open on her bedroom floor and he was surprised to see it already half-filled with her dresses. A valise was on the bed.

"What are you doing?" Adam asked.

"I was going to tell you goodbye—I couldn't bring myself to see you before I left because—oh, Adam, don't make this harder for me than it already is."

Adam pulled her to him and gently kissed her. "Do you think I went through all this just to lose you?"

"Oh, Adam. Can't you see? I can't stay here; people have been gossiping horribly about us—about you and me and your family is far too important for that. I don't fit in anyway. Everyone believes that you…that you tried to kill Dyer for me, because he had married me and that as you had done Sam, you wanted to kill him too."

"I did. And do you think I really give a damn about what people say? As long as we're happy with each other, what does it matter? I won't let you go, Asia. I won't let you leave."

"Adam, I…"

"Don't talk," he said and then pressed his mouth on hers. And Asia relaxed into his arms. "I love you, Asia, and I want to marry you. Please—don't leave me. Stay and be my wife."

"Oh, Adam." Asia slipped her arms around him and rested her cheek against his chest. "I do so love you—more than I have the words to express."

"Then show me," he said and pushed a valise off the bed.

"Yes," she whispered to him. "I'll show you." And together, they lay down and their bodies acted out the love that filled their hearts.

~ Finis ~


End file.
